Have A Cigar...

Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar
You're gonna go far
You're gonna fly high
You're never gonna die
You're gonna make it if you try
They're gonna love you


I'm fairly sure the boys from Pink Floyd weren't thinking of the Boston Celtics when they wrote that, but it seems especially fitting this morning nonetheless. When cigar smoke started drifting towards the rafters of the Boston Garden (yes, it finally deserves the name) last night with about 2 minutes remaining, it was impossible to tell where it came from. Like ESPN.com's Chris Sheriden, I'm content to believe that it was a sign from Red. I'm old enough to remember The Master lighting up those Hoya de Montereys in celebration of previous Celtics championships, and I know that trademark cigar and a smile watched over the incredible dismantling of the hated Lakers to lay claim to Number 17.

68 days. That is how long it has been since the playoffs started, and the Boston Celtics set out to prove that they were more than a massive payroll and a trio of All-Stars with naked fingers. We watched them inexplicably go to 7 games with the vastly over-matched Hawks and Cavs, as they figured out playoff basketball together. We watched them re-learn how to win on the road against the dangerous Pistons, and figure out that you don't have to play all seven games to advance. We watched them come back from a 24 point first half deficit in Los Angeles to make the statement that they were the team to beat, not the "experts' pick" Lakers. And last night, for the first time in 108 games, we saw what the Boston Celtics were truly capable of if they put together a full 48 minutes of their finest play. It was the greatest moment in the last 22 years of Celtics history. It marked, with an exclamation point, the true return of Celtic Pride. It vindicated The Captain, a guy I've always said didn't get the respect he deserved, simply because he was saddled with sub-par teams to play on. It vindicated a guy who has spent too many years in the hinterlands being chided for being exactly the type of player he needed to be to get this team to the promised land. It vindicated one of the greatest pure shooters of all-time, who shed a cold streak in time to make sure the bottom of the net was his in the Finals. It vindicated a kid who constantly heard that he wasn't ready to run the point for a Championship-caliber team. It vindicated a bench that was questioned from the start but proved to not only be one of the best this season, but possibly one of the best ever, a hodge-podge of wet-behind-the-ears youngsters, career 10 minute a game guys, and a couple of guys whose primes came in the last century. And it vindicated a Coach who had absorbed all of the barbs of the last few seasons and took this assortment of characters and crafted them into the epitome of a Team.

In the last decade or so, the Celtics have been lost in the Boston sports landscape, with the rise of the Red Sox and Patriots. But there have always been those of us who bleed Green, who suffered through Len Bias, Bird's back, Reggie Lewis, Tim Duncan, Rick Pitino, 'Toine, Red's passing, and the 2006-2007 season. And then there is the next generation, the ones who never knew what we meant when we spoke of the Glory Days. Number 17 was for all of us.

You may have noticed I haven't mentioned a single name so far, and that's because I think it it is who these Celtics are. They are a team, first and foremost, and no name rises above the one on the front of their jerseys. So let me do it like this:

Gabe Pruitt
Scot Pollard
Brian Scalabrine
Tony Allen
P.J. Brown
Sam Cassell
Glen Davis
Leon Powe
Eddie House
James Posey
Kendrick Perkins
Rajon Rondo
Ray Allen
Kevin Garnett
Paul Pierce
Doc Rivers

There you have it, your 2008 World Champion Boston Celtics. The Boston Celtics dismissed the Los Angeles Lakers to win it all. All is right in the world, The Green Is Back On.



Two final notes. I saw 2 things last night that I've never seen before in a basketball game. First, here was the Gatorade shower Paul Pierce delivered to Doc Rivers. A staple of football championships, you just don't see this in hoops. The second, Brian Scalabrine, on the bench in street clothes, left during the game and returned to the locker room. To put on his uniform. Because after all, this was about the Team. The Boston Celtics. The greatest franchise in NBA history returning to its rightful place. I Love This Game.



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